


Suck My Stick

by ascoolsuchasi



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Healthy Relationships, M/M, crude title is crude, fake!cops, fake!shoplifiting, role play, synecdoche_and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-10
Updated: 2012-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 07:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ascoolsuchasi/pseuds/ascoolsuchasi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teenaged Charles gets picked up for shoplifting and Officer Lehnsherr has to teach him a lesson. Or how Charles and Erik have a healthy relationship in which they role play. A lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suck My Stick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [synecdoche_and](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=synecdoche_and).



> Warnings for perceived non con and abuse of power (but not really), age difference
> 
> Written for the prompt [here](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=11857957#t11857957)

Officer Lehnsherr stares down at the shaking boy.

“Was it worth it boy?”

The boy’s big, blue eyes turn watery and Lehnsherr has a moment where he thinks that maybe he can’t, but the boy says, “No sir,” in a soft, broken voice and his resolves crumbles.

Lehnsherr stretches up from where he was leaning on the table.

“So what are we going to do about this, boy?”

The boy shakes slightly, hands rattling the cuffs around his thin wrists, and snorts out a cry and begs, “Please sir! Please! I can’t--don’t tell my parents!”

Lehnsherr strolls around the table, baton swinging behind him, until he stands behind the boy. He leans down to the boy’s head and says, “I won’t call this in if you do me a little favour.”

The boy gulps and shakes even more. Tears stream down his pale, pinkish face and Lehnsherr has a moment where he thinks, _god he looks_ \-- before his thoughts are interrupted by the boy’s shaky reply of, “Yes, a-a-anything sir. P-please, just--”

Lehnsherr smiles this grin that’s more of a show of teeth and dominance than reassuring, clasps his hand on lithe shoulders and says, “Stand up boy.”

The boy bites into his lip hard enough for him to let out a whimper of pain, then nods his head sharply.

Lehnsherr lets his eyes travel across the boy’s slender frame, taking in his firm arse, the width of his shoulders, the length of his back, his too red lips, and shimmery blue eyes. He licks his lips, like some sort of predator after its’ prey.

Lehnsherr comes back to attention when he hears the half crooked out, “Sir?”

Lehnsherr smirks and swings his baton into his other hand. It makes a loud smacking sound. The boy winces and gulps.

“Down on your knees.”

The boy’s eyes tear up even more, but he drops down to the floor.

Lehnsherr runs the baton across the boy’s jaw line and squints down at him. “You’re such a pretty little thing, aren’t you?”

The boy whimpers and his bottom lip trembles. Lehnsherr kneels down on the floor and grabs at the boy’s jaw. “You’re going to do something for me. Do you understand?”

The boy nods.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Lehnsherr tightens his hold on the boy. “I want to hear you.”

The boy trembles harder, but nods and says, “Y-yes sir.”

Lehnsherr drawls out a, “Good,” and stands up. He runs his baton across the boy’s jaw line again, following it up to his plump mouth, where he presses in slightly and says, “Open up.”

Tears drip down the boy’s face and Lehnsherr bites back a moan when he see the boy’s tongue wrap around the thick of it.

“Mmmm, you like that don’t you?”

Lehnsherr runs his free hand down his chest to his groin and rubs hard. He moans and nudges the baton further down the boy’s throat.

The boys gags a bit and spit runs down his chin and drips to the floor.

Lehnsherr groans, then halts all movements and says, “Enough.”

The boy looks up to him with glassy eyes as he pulls his baton from his swollen mouth.

“Is that--is that it, sir?”

Lehnsherr laughs and takes a step back.

“Oh no, boy. Not even close.” He pats at his thigh. “Now come here.”

The boy whimpers but stays in place. Lehnsherr scowls.

“I said come here,” his knuckles go white on his baton, “or do you _want_ me to make a certain phone call?”

The boy crawls forward, stumbling a few times when his knees get caught on his cuffs and squeezes his eyes tight. And, _oh_ , we can’t have that.

“Open your eyes, boy.” Lehnsherr near growls, and when the boy hesitates, he does growl.

 _“Now boy.”_

The boy blinks a few times to try to stave of his tears and fails horribly at it. Lehnsherr smiles, all teeth, and runs a hand through the boy’s hair then grips on tight and jerks his head up. He runs the baton across the boy’s cheeks, following their tracks, and says, “You know, you’re pretty when you cry,” then leans in close to say, “I’d bet you’d look better with my cock in your mouth.”

He pulls back his baton and releases his grip on the boy’s hair.

The boy whimpers at that. Lehnsherr chuckles and says, “Open your mouth.”

Lehnsherr pulls down his trousers then groans at the wet, hot feeling of the boy’s mouth. He brings his hand back to the boy’s hair and pets at it roughly.

“God,” Lehnsherr half groans out, “you have such a pretty mouth.”

The boy reaches out and tries to grab onto Lehnsherr’s leg, but can’t quite manage it.  Lehnsherr takes his baton under the boy’s chin to angle it better, then laughs loudly and thrusts harder into the his mouth.

“You like this, don’t you? Pretty slut.”

Lehnsherr curls in on himself slightly, more onto the boy than anything else, and runs his baton down the curve of the boy’s spine and down to his arse.

Lehnsherr presses his baton down some and feels more than hears the boy’s strangled, choked out moan.

Lehnsherr’s grip on the boy’s hair tightens at the half sound and he groans out, “Like that, don’t you? You wanted to get caught, huh?”

The hand in the boy’s hair moves to cup at his face, his thumb dipping down some to wipe at the spit that’s gathered at his chin and smiles.

The boy jerks forward at the feel of a baton pressing into his arse, _hard._

“Liked that, did you?” Lehnsherr laughs and traces the line of the boy’s arse more.

“You never worried about your parents, did you?” He groans and pulls away from the boy completely. “No…”

The boy trembles and croaks out, “P-p-please sir.”

Lehnsherr lets go of the boy’s hair and moves it to his cock. “No, you bated me into this, didn’t you?”

The boy lets out a cry and Lehnsherr takes a moment to just _look_. Ruddy face and too pink, blotchy, tear streaked cheeks and lips he didn’t think could get so big and red, blood shot blue eyes that seem larger than ever before.

“Sir I--”

Lehnsherr says, “Shut it, slut.”

The boy stills completely and makes a sort of chocked cry. Lehnsherr laughs and says, “See? I knew you wanted this,” then three, four, five strokes more and he’s coming all over the boy’s face and neck.

Lehnsherr wets his lips and smiles. His eyes soften and he pulls the boy up, unhooks his cuffs and wraps his arms around his middle in a tight hug, not caring about getting cum all over his shirt. His voice quiets to almost a whisper, reverent when he asks, “Is that what you wanted, Charles?”

And Charles’ eyes are shimmering with something more than just tears when he presses a kiss to Erik’s jaw, nuzzles into his chest, and says, “It was perfect.”

  



End file.
